


When You Come Back

by thegeekgene



Series: Wash It Out [6]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 20:34:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4934338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegeekgene/pseuds/thegeekgene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat stays the night with Tavros.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You Come Back

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after an as-yet-unfinished story. The only relevant detail from it is that Karkat has moved into his new room.

The storm comes on suddenly.

Karkat is in Tavros’s room, just getting ready to leave when it blows up, the quiet night shattered by howling wind and battering rain. Karkat stops mid-sentence to stare out the window while Tavros fumbles for the weather app on his phone. 

“What the fuck?” Karkat says, getting closer as if to interrogate the blackened sky. “Where the fuck did that come from?”

“South,” Tavros reports, examining a satellite map. ‘It looks like the remains of that hurricane that hit Florida. We, uh, should probably have expected some rain?”

“I am not walking back in that,” Karkat says. “Fuck, how long is it supposed to last?”

Tavros looks.

“All night,” he says. “With a high chance of hail.”

“Oh, fuck that.”

Tavros slips his phone back into his pocket and tries not to sound too smug as he says, “I guess you’ll just have to stay here.”

Apparently he fails because Karkat turns to scowl at him. “You don’t have to sound so fucking happy about it. I don’t have any clothes here.”

“What’s wrong with mine?”

“Do you want a list? Fine, I’ll give you a list.” Karkat ticks off the points on his fingers. “Your pants are too long, your shirts are too tight, and, oh, just by the way, they’re _brown_. I’m not a brown blood.”

“But your, uh, matesprit is, so I don’t think you wearing it is that unusual?”

“If you plan to give me a quadrant token,” Karkat says, “it had better not be a flannel shirt.”

“Oh. Damn.”

Karkat snorts.

“I don’t even get why you like it so much when I stay here,” he says. “Sure, the sex is good, but half the time all we do it sleep and it can’t be my charming morning personality.”

Tavros shrugs.

“Can’t I just like being with you? Even if I’m not, uh, conscious for a lot of it, I just like the idea of having you with me. And wearing my clothes. It’s, uh, kinda hot,” he adds.

“I should have known you’d have a fetish,” Karkat says, but wanders over and lets Tavros sling his arms around his waist. He doesn’t seem to mind much about the storm, really.

“It’s not a fetish,” Tavros says. “It’s just, an interest, I guess. And you can’t talk, you like giving me hickeys.”

“I’m territorial. Don’t like it, don’t date me.”

Tavros squeezes his waist. “I can be territorial, too,” he says, and shows Karkat his fangs.

They start kissing and it’s a little while before they stop. When they do, it’s because Karkat yawns.

Not really surprising. It’s midnight and he had a nine AM class.

“Time for bed?” Tavros asks.

“Ugh,” says Karkat. “I guess. I swear I’m turning into an old man. Freshman year I could stay up until four and still function in the morning.”

“You’re basically the Condesce,” Tavros agrees and begins to unbutton his own jeans.

“She has a nicer rack.”

“I promise I am, uh, eminently satisfied with yours.”

As Karkat settles into bed beside him, several minutes later, he makes a considering noise then asks, “Did you change your sheets?”

“Uh, yes? I mean, I kinda had to, after the last time you stayed.” Morning sex, they had established, was pretty great. Occasionally messy, but great. “Is there something wrong with them?”

“No, they’re just -- soft. And warm, wow.”

“Flannel,” Tavros says. “Aradia got them for me because I get cold easily.”

“Do you really?” Karkat sounds amused. “Is that why you want me to stay over all the time? To steal my body heat?”

“That might be part of my motivation,” Tavros concedes. “Though I also really like your nook.”

Karkat snorts again.

“It likes you, too,” he says. “Now go to sleep.”

Tavros makes and effort, lying there in the darkness with Karkat heavy and familiar in his arms, Karkat’s smell soft and warm in his nose. Generally the combination is as good as a sleeping pill, if they’re not making out. Bad Tavros likes storms, and the one outside is a good one; kind of interesting. The thunder comes in rolling bursts, crashes atop crashes before pettering out into silence under rain and the reflection of lightning is just visible on the shutters. He can’t hear the promises hail, yet, and he’s perversely disappointed. Hail is cool and small impacts on the dorm roof, last time they had a storm like this, were rather nice, even if Aradia’s windshield got fucked up. He stays awake, listening, even after Karkat’s breath levels out and listens to the rain, safe inside with his matesprit in his arms. He thinks it might be the happiest he’s ever been.

 

Tavros is just drifting off when the knock comes at the door. For a confused moment, he thinks it’s Karkat but it’s definitely not Karkat. Karkat is already here and besides, it’s not Karkat’s knock, aggressive and authoritative. It’s softer, not hesitant, exactly, but without conviction. It’s not the knock of anyone Tavros knows.

He stays in bed, wondering if he might have dreamt it, and then it comes again, a little harder. Karkat grunts in his sleep and Tavros begins the process of getting up without knocking him on the floor; not waking him up isn’t really an option.

“Mph,” Karkat says. “Agh, what?”

“Just shift a little,” Tavros tells him. “There’s someone at the door.”

“And you’re _answering_ it?”

The knock comes a third time.

“I answered if for you,” Tavros says.

There’s not much Karkat can say to that so he just groans and buries his face in the pillow.

“I’m not here,” he says.

Tavros rolls his eyes and goes to answer the door.

He’s not sure who he’s expecting. Maybe he and Karkat were being too loud and some neighbor waited an hour to complain? Maybe a guest coming to visit someone had arrived at the wrong door? Someone on a drug trip, unaware of the time? It’s a college campus. There are a lot of possibilities.

He’s really, really not expecting Gamzee.

“Oh,” Tavros says -- squeaks. “Hi.”

“Hey, Tavbro,” says Gamzee. “What the motherfuck is up?”

Not really thinking, Tavros steps out and closes the door behind him.

“Uh, nothing,” he says. “Nothing is up, I mean, why would it be? It’s, uh, pretty late.”

“It is?” Gamzee frowns. “What time is it?”

“About one-thirty, I think,” Tavros says.

“Ffffuck, I didn’t even realize,” he says. “Were you sleepin’?”

“Getting there,” Tavros admits.

“I am so motherfucking sorry,” Gamzee says. “But hey, you’re awake now, right? Any chance you want to kick it? Bust some sweet ass rhymes? It’s been a motherfucking while.”

“I know,” Tavros says. “But now is, not the best time for me? Because it’s late and also because, my neighbors are already not happy with me. I don’t need another noise complaint.”

Gamzee honks a laugh.

“Never knew you were such a partier,” he says. “But, hey, I always said you had hidden depths. We could go back to my place. Neighbors there won’t mind at all.”

Tavros suspects this is probably less true than Gamzee thinks but doesn’t comment. Instead he grimaces and says, “I’m sorry, Gamzee, but I’ve got a, uh, a guest? So I really can’t hang out tonight.”

“Huh?” Gamzee frowns again. “Oh. Oooooh.” Expressions flick across his face, too quick to read, and he manages a rather unconvincing smile in the end. “You shoulda said somethin’ straight up, brother,” he says. “You just get on with what you’re gettin’ on with, I won’t interrupt. Later, bro, and good luck.”

“Uh, bye Gamzee,” Tavros says, and turns around to open the door. When he glances back, Gamzee is still standing there. “Uh. Bye?” he says again.

Gamzee offers him an even less sincere smile and moves off down the hall. Tavros waits until he’s several yards away to slip back inside. He locks the door, this time.

Karkat is sitting up in bed, watching him through the gloom.

Very, very softly his voice comes.

“That was him, wasn’t it?”

Tavros doesn’t bother pretending to be clueless and just says, “Yes.”

“Did he know I was here?”

“No.” Tavros goes and sits on the edge of the bed, facing him. “He just, uh, wanted to hang out.”

“At two in the morning? Was that normal for you guys?” Karkat’s voice isn’t as soft, now, but it’s still nowhere near its normal volume. Tavros reaches out a hand and Karkat latches on.

“No, it wasn’t. He didn’t, uh, seem to realize what time it was? He seemed, pretty surprised.”

“Shit,” Karkat says. “Fuck. _Fuck._ He is so fucked up right now.”

“It does seem that way, yes.”

“I dumped him,” Karkat continues. “I dumped him and it fucked him up. Oh my god. This is my fault.”

“It isn’t your fault,” Tavros says and squeezes his hand tight. “It’s his, for being a, uh, really bad moirail.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one with a moirail aimlessly roaming the night, knocking on door, with no idea what time of day it is.”

“Ex-moirail,” Tavros says firmly. “You broke up with him. And you did it for a reason.”

“A pile of reasons, fuck.” Karkat wipes at his face with his free hand. “That doesn’t mean I don’t still care about him.”

“I know that,” Tavros says. “I know.”

Karkat sniffles and Tavros gives into the urge to drag him into a hug. Karkat burrows into him, hiding his face in his shoulder, and his t-shirt is soon wet with tears.

“Hey,” Tavros says. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

“But what if it’s not? What if something -- ? What if he -- ?”

Tavros tightens his grip. “It won’t,” he says. “He won’t. He’ll be upset for a while and then he’ll be fine, again. And so will you. You’re going to be fine. And even if something does happen,” he adds, because he knows it’s a possibility Karkat can’t ignore, “that won’t be your fault, either. You’re not responsible for him.”

“But I was supposed to be,” Karkat insists.

“No,” Tavros says. “You weren’t. Being with somebody, even being their moirail, doesn’t make you responsible for them. It means you help them, sure, but they’re still their own people. Gamzee is his own person. And he’s going to be fine.”

Karkat sniffles again.

“Fuck,” he says. “No, he’s not, he’s useless. But that’s not my problem, anymore.”

Tavros smiles a little.

“You think everyone is, uh, useless,” he says. “And most of us have survived without you as our moirail. So I think he’ll be okay.”

“That’s a good point,” Karkat says and lifts his head. “You should have opened with that. It might have saved you a shirt.”

“I’ve got others,” Tavros says. 

“Ugh. Why are you so nice to me?” Karkat doesn’t wait for an answer. “I need a new moirail.”

Tavros lets his arms drop and they sit back to look at each other in the darkness.

“Uh, not that I’m objecting, but are you sure? You just got out of a really long term relationship. Is jumping into another really a good idea?”

Karkat shrugs.

“I don’t know. Maybe not. But it’s like you said, I’m pale for the world. If I don’t have someone in the quadrant I don’t know what to do with myself. And it’s really not fair of me to dump all my shit on you all the time. You’ve already got moirails.”

“I don’t mind,” Tavros says. “And they don’t, either. We, uh, talked about it.”

Karkat snorts, but sounds fond when he speaks.

“Of course you did,” he says. “Just because I can do it doesn’t mean I should.”

“Do you have anyone in mind?” Tavros asks.

“I think so. My RA -- former RA. Kanaya. We talk on trollian and she’s -- she’s good. She doesn’t mind when I’m -- well, me. I think she finds it endearing.”

“The ranting?” Tavros asks. “It kind of is.”

“Then clearly you and Kanaya share the same psychological deficiencies,” Karkat says. “Ugh. I don’t know. There might be something there but it might also be wishful thinking.”

“Just give it some time,” Tavros suggests. “There’s no rush.”

“I know there’s not. I just -- wish shit weren’t so fucking complicated.”

“Complicated is the nature of quadrants as I understand them.”

“They’re so much simpler in romcoms.”

Tavros smiles fondly and pulls Karkat into his arms, again.

“Honestly I, uh, think I prefer reality.”

Karkat buries his face in his neck, again, and Tavros can feel his lips turning up.

“You think you’re charming,” Karkat says. “It’s kind of endearing how wrong you are about that.”

“You keep filling pails with me,” Tavros points out. “And, uh, hanging out with me in contexts that have nothing to do with pails. So I think I must be doing something right.”

“Smug, too. Why am I even dating you?”

“I really don’t know. But I hope we never figure it out because then you might decide it’s not a good enough reason and, uh, stop, which I wouldn’t like at all.”

“Don’t fish for reassurance,” Karkat tells him. “It’s somehow even less attractive than the smug.”

But he lifts his head and kisses him so it can’t be that bad.

The kissing goes on, gets a little heated, and Karkat’s hands are edging under his shirt when Tavros remembers exactly why it is they’re even awake and breaks away.

“Are you okay?” he says. “With, uh, everything? Not that I don’t like, where this seems to be going but I’d like to know if you’re really okay, first.”

Karkat is now glaring at him through the gloom.

“Tavros,” he says, slowly. “It has turned into an emotionally trying night and I’d really like to not have to think about the reasons it was emotionally trying. I would like instead to have sex with you and deal with whatever bullshit needs dealing with in the morning, when my nook is good and sore and I have been thoroughly reminded of all the reasons I put up with the emotionally trying bullshit to begin with. For that to happen, you need to shut up and have sex with me. Are you going to do that, or are you going to sit there making sad puppy eyes at me until Ragnarok comes?”

Tavros feels himself flush brown.

“I am going to do that,” he says. “I am most definitely going to do that, right now.”

“Good,” Karkat says. “Now, take your shirt off.”

Tavros takes his shirt off. Karkat is patient for as long as that takes and then, as soon as it’s tossed aside, he attaches himself to Tavros’s collarbone and sucks. Tavros squeaks and grabs hold of him, fingers fisting in Karkat’s tanktop for a moment before remembering what they’re doing and diving under.

His skin is warm and smooth under Tavros’s palms, familiar for all they haven’t really done this that much, and the huff of satisfaction as he scratches lines down Karkat’s back is familiar, too. Karkat bites down and Tavros hisses, goes for the grub scars. He pinches hard with his clawtips, causing Karkat’s teeth to loosen as he gasps. He pulls back long enough to yank his own shirt off and then lies back, dragged Tavros along by the horns.

They kiss, again, messy and hard and Tavros shoves the blankets down until they’re in a wad around their feet.

They fuck with Karkat’s legs around Tavros’s waist, Tavros’s bulge thrashing and straining deep inside Karkat’s nook, and when they finish Tavros has just enough presence of mind left to clean Karkat’s belly with a discarded shirt before he sits up, saving them the necessity of changing the sheets again.

They got to sleep once the bucket is full and is Karkat wakes them both around five AM with an anxiety-fueled nightmare, Tavros will never, ever complain.


End file.
